


Dirty Blond

by minyoungis



Series: BTS [1]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Comfort, Emotional Constipation, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, Music, Sleep, Soft Min Yoongi | Suga, Softness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, idolverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27039631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minyoungis/pseuds/minyoungis
Summary: Both of you aren’t the best at taking care of yourselves. But when it comes to taking care of each other, you’re practically experts. It’s a soft world you live in sometimes.
Relationships: Min Yoongi | Suga/Reader
Series: BTS [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973482
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	Dirty Blond

**Author's Note:**

> this is love, i'm certain

You key in the code to the genius lab and wait for the tiny light to turn green before you slowly push the door open, juggling your backpack and the cover filled with food in your arms.

He doesn’t notice you entering the room, faced away, the back of his now dirty blonde hair ruffled with that post-snapback mess and shoulders hunched. He is intently focused on the screen, one hand on the keyboard next to him and the other clicking away rapidly at the multiple programs that he has open. Namjoon’s sitting next to him, pen in hand, tapping at the notebook that’s open in front of the both of them. 

They’re frustrated, you can tell. Ten hours in the same room will do that to any person.

You can faintly hear the low thrum of deep, unfamiliar bass beats flowing out of the headphones. To your admittedly biased ear, it already sounds like a hit.

You softly lay the cover down on the little table in front of the couch and quietly make your way towards them, so as to not startle the two exasperated, sleep-deprived men.

Namjoon notices you first, catching sight of your reflection on the dark monitor. Ever the sweetheart, he tries to morph his previous expression of annoyance into his trademark smile. It turns out to be more of a grimace, but you appreciate the effort nonetheless.

You give him a small, and what you hope is encouraging, smile, dipping your head towards the bags behind you. His eyes widen and he scrambles up, giving you a quick, grateful hug before he makes his way to the food, pulling out the boxes and chopsticks.

You turn to your boyfriend. His headphones are off and you can see the waves on screen pulsing continuously, temporarily abandoned, no doubt waiting to be edited and mixed until they’ve reached Yoongi’s apparently impossible standards. He isn’t a perfectionist, but when it comes to music, every note, every beat, every _breath_ needs to be in its designated place.

He’s spun around, head facing up, looking at you with an expression of fondness mixed with exhaustion. The bags under his eyes are darker than they were when you last saw them a week ago, before you left for your project.

The memory of a hushed, “ _Goodbye_ ,” to a half asleep Yoongi at the doorway as your taxi honked outside and your lips brushed his repeatedly, his hands tiredly slung around your waist and his hoarse voice whispering, “ _I’ll miss you_ ,” and, “ _Good luck,_ ” and, “ _Just one more, please,_ ” in between kisses, rushes into your brain.

He rolls his chair in your direction, not quite covering the entire distance, but wordlessly hinting at you to come closer. You shuffle towards him until your knees are knocking into his and you’re close enough for his arms to wind around your waist and his face to burrow into your stomach. Your hands automatically come to rest on his head, fingers gently carding through his hair, patting it down. 

He lets out a soft hum of contentment, frame practically liquefying under your ministrations as you lightly scratch his scalp. You’re glad that it was Namjoon who happened to be in studio with him and not any of the other members, because you’re sure they’d give Yoongi hell for being this pliant, such a far cry from his usually tough exterior.

You live for these moments though, when you get to see this cuddly, affectionate, cat-like Yoongi. It helps silence that nagging voice in your head that gets louder on cold nights, feeding off of the thoughts that you had even before meeting him, whispering that you need him more than he needs you.

You trace your hands down and cup his face, coaxing him to look up. It’s a little embarrassing, how much your heart flips when you make eye contact with him.

“Eat,” you say, simply, gently unwinding his arms and taking his hand instead, pulling him up and walking towards the couch where Namjoon is already sat and digging in.

He comes without protest, only tightening his grip on your perennially warm hand and allowing you to sit him down next to the other man, pulling at your linked fingers to take a seat on his other side.

And there the three of you sit, only the sound of your chewing and occasionally clicking chopsticks breaking the silence in the studio.

Namjoon finishes first.“Thanks for the food, Y/N. We needed that,” he says, voice low with exhaustion and satisfaction, leaning back on couch.

“Anytime,” you reply, already trying to figure out how to convince them to take a nap while they’re at it.

It proves to be easier than you had expected as Yoongi slumps against your shoulder, eyes already fluttering shut, whispering a soft “ _Thank you._ ” 

Namjoon lets out a fond, amused chuckle at the scene. He might not tease, but he definitely has his fun when Yoongi’s soft like this. 

With a quick pat to Yoongi’s knee, he rises to his feet while saying, “I’m going to go sleep at the dorms. Night, guys.” The two of you say your respective goodnights (a slightly chirpier “ _Goodnight, Joon,_ ” and a half-asleep “ _Hmm,_ ”) and now it’s just you and your boyfriend in the room. 

You finish up your noodles and set the box back on the table, all with Yoongi, who’s now breathing heavily in his sleep, with his head on your shoulder. As smoothly as you can, you stretch out and retrieve the blanket that’s always kept next to the couch and wrap it around your frames. 

You maneuver his body so now you’re both lying down, his head on your chest and his arms clinched tight around your waist. One of your own comes up to wrap around his shoulder and the other rests on his head, fingers soothingly running through the freshly dyed strands.

Your heart veritably claws its way out of your chest and physically stops your brain from processing all coherent thought as he nuzzles closer to your body, effectively traps you by throwing a leg over your thigh, and whispers a hoarse, barely intelligible, “ _Love you._ ”

If his eyes were open right now, no doubt he would have had a good laugh at your wide eyed, gaping mouthed expression. Whether it is contentment at his present comfort or amusement at your reaction like he somehow knows the effect of his recent actions on you, you feel his lips curve into a small, soft smile against your collar bone. 

For the moment, all you can do is tighten your grip on his body and brush your lips against his head, fervently hoping that he can understand the multitude of rose-tinted, ultra soft emotions that you’re trying to convey. 

You feel your eyelids closing and the last thought before you fall asleep like that, body heavy with the person atop you and heart full of the same, is some vague, hazy combination of _This hair colour is a good look_ and _I haven’t even kissed him properly yet._

**Author's Note:**

> i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!  
> find me on tumblr (where everything is cross posted) at @min-youngis :D


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